ONCE upon a time there was a man who lived in a splendid house, and had dishes of gold and silver, chairs and sofas covered with flowered satin, and curtains of the richest silk. But alas! this man was so unlucky as to have a blue beard, which made him look so frightfully ugly that all the women and girls ran away from him.
His nearest neighbor was a lady of quality who had two beautiful daughters, and he wished to marry one of them. He was even willing to let the lady decide which of the two it should be. Neither of the daughters, however, would have him, and the lady sighed to think of her children’s obstinacy in refusing to become the mistress of such a magnificent mansion. But they were not able to make up their minds to marry a man with a blue beard. Their aversion was increased by the fact that he had already had several wives, and no one knew surely what had become of them, though he made all sorts of excuses to account for their disappearance.
At length Bluebeard, in order to cure the dislike of the lady’s daughters, invited them and their mother and some young friends to spend a whole week at his house. They came, and nothing was thought of but parties for hunting and fishing, feasting, dancing, and music. The guests were loaded with gifts of the most costly description and were so delightfully entertained that before many days had passed, Fatima, the youngest sister, began to imagine that the beard she had thought to be so ugly was not so very blue after all. By the end of the week the kindness and politeness of her host had made such an impression that she concluded it would be a pity to refuse to become his wife on account of the trifling circumstance of his having a blue beard.
So they were married shortly afterward, and at first everything went well. A month passed away, and one morning Bluebeard told Fatima that he must go on a journey which would take him six weeks at least. He kissed her affectionately, gave her the keys of the whole mansion, and bade her amuse herself in any way she pleased while he was gone.
“But,” said he, “I would have you notice among the keys the small one of polished steel. It unlocks the little room at the end of the long corridor. Go where you will, and do what you choose, but remember I have forbidden you to enter that one room.”
Fatima promised faithfully to obey his orders, and she watched him get into his carriage, and stood at the door of the mansion waving her hand to him as he drove away. Lest she should be lonesome during her husband’s absence, she invited numerous guests to keep her company. Most of them had not dared to venture into the house while Bluebeard was there, and they came without any urging or delay, eager to see its splendors. They ran about upstairs and downstairs, peeping into the closets and wardrobes, admiring the rooms, and exclaiming over the beauties of the tapestries, sofas, cabinets, and tables, and of the mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot. With one consent they praised what they saw, and envied the fortune of their friend, the mistress of all this magnificence. She went about unlocking the doors for their convenience until the only door that remained untouched was that of the obscure room at the end of the long corridor. She wondered why she had been forbidden to enter that room. What was there in it? Even if she did go in, her husband need never know she had done so. The more she thought about it the more curious she became. At last she left her guests and hurried along the dark, narrow corridor that led to the forbidden room. At the door she hesitated, recalling her husband’s command, and fearful of his anger; but the temptation was too strong, and she tremblingly opened the door.
At first she could see nothing because the window-shutters were closed; but after a few moments she began to discern that on the floor lay the bodies of all the wives Bluebeard had married. She uttered a cry of horror, her strength left her, and she thought she would die from fear. The key of the room fell from her hand, but she picked it up, hastily retreated to the corridor, and locked the door. However, she could not forget what she had seen, and when she returned to her guests her mind was too disturbed for her to attend to their comfort or to attempt to entertain them. One by one they bade their hostess good-by and went home, until no one was left with her except her sister Anne.
Then Fatima noticed a spot of blood on the key of the fatal room. She tried to wipe it off, but the spot remained. Then she washed the key with soap and scoured it with sand, but her efforts were in vain, for it was a magic key, and only Bluebeard himself had the power to remove the stain. She decided not to put it with the other keys, but to hide it, hoping her husband would not miss it.
Bluebeard returned unexpectedly that very evening. He said a horseman had met him on the road and told him that the business which had taken him from home had been satisfactorily settled, so there was no need of his making the long journey.
Fatima tried to welcome her husband with every appearance of pleasure, but all the time she was dreading the moment when he should ask for the keys. This he did not do until the following morning, and then she gave them to him with such a blanched face and shaking hand that he easily guessed what had happened. “How is it that you have not brought me the key of the little room?” he asked sternly.
“I must have left it on my table upstairs,” she faltered.
“Bring it to me at once,” said Bluebeard, and she was forced to go and make a pretense of searching for it.
When she dared delay no longer she went to her husband and surrendered the key, and he immediately demanded the cause of the stain on it. She hesitated, at a loss what reply to make, and he shouted: “But why need I ask? I know the meaning of it right well. You have disobeyed my commands and have been into the room I ordered you not to enter. So you shall go in again, madam, but you will never return. You shall take your place among the ladies you saw there.”
Fatima fell on her knees at his feet weeping and begging for mercy, but the cruel man had a heart like a stone, and he bade her prepare for death. “Since I must die,” said she, “at least grant me a little time to say my prayers.”
“I give you ten minutes,” said Bluebeard, “and not one moment more.”
Poor Fatima hastened to a little turret chamber whither her sister had fled in terror and grief. “Sister Anne,” she said, “go up to the top of the tower and see if our brothers are coming. They promised to visit me today; and if they should be in sight beckon them to come quickly.”
So the sister climbed the narrow staircase that led to the top of the tower, and no sooner was she there than Fatima called from below, “Anne, sister Anne, do you see anyone coming?”
Anne replied sadly, “I see nothing but the sun shining and the grass growing tall and green.”
Several times Fatima asked the same question and received the same answer.
Meanwhile Bluebeard was waiting with a mighty cimeter in one hand and his watch in the other. At length he shouted in a great voice, “Come down, or I shall go up and fetch you.”
“Anne, sister Anne,” Fatima called softly, “look again. Is there no one on the road?”
“I see a cloud of dust rising in the distance,” Anne answered.
“Perchance it is our brothers,” said Fatima.
“Alas! no, my dear sister,” responded Anne, “it is only a flock of sheep.”
“Fatima!” roared Bluebeard, “I command you to come down.”
“One moment—just one moment more,” sobbed the wretched wife.
Then she called, “Anne, sister Anne, do you see anyone coming?”
“I see two horsemen riding in this direction,” said Anne, “but they are a great way off.”
“Heaven be praised!” exclaimed Fatima. “They must be our brothers. Oh! sign to them to hasten.”
By this time the enraged Bluebeard was howling so loud for his wife to come down that his voice shook the whole castle. Fatima dared delay no longer, and she descended to the great hall, threw herself at her wicked husband’s feet, and once more begged him to spare her life.
“Silence!” cried Bluebeard. “Your entreaties are wasted. You shall die!”
He seized her hair and raised his cimeter to strike. At that moment a loud knocking was heard at the gates. Bluebeard paused with a look of alarm, and then the door of the hall was flung open and Fatima’s two brothers appeared with swords ready drawn in their hands. They rushed at Bluebeard, and one rescued his sister from her husband’s grasp, and the other gave the wretch a sword-thrust that put an end to his life.
So the wicked Bluebeard perished miserably, and Fatima became mistress of all his riches. Part of her wealth she bestowed on her sister Anne, and part on her two brothers. The rest she retained herself, and presently she married a man whose kind treatment helped her to forget her unfortunate experience with Bluebeard.